Desolation

"If you can't play the role I need you to play then what the fuck good are you to me?"

Rene was trembling, tears running down her cheeks. She felt like a little girl; a little girl who was lost.

"Now," the doctor said in a soft but commanding voice, "strip off your sweatshirt and drop down on your hands and knees and crawl to me."

Rene did not hesitate. She dazedly pulled the sweatshirt over her head and fell to her knees and crawled to the bed.

The doctor swung one of her legs over the side of the bed, idly kicking her foot. When Rene reached the bed the doctor said, "Now kiss my foot, my sweet little cunt."

Without hesitation though somewhat awkwardly, Rene obeyed.

The doctor smiled.

Rene looked up expectantly into the doctor's eyes, "Did that please you?"

"Hmmm, well dear, I'll give you points for promptness. You will improve though. I have confidence in you. Now, come, let me make you feel better."

~~~~~~~~~~

Anne Woods greatly enjoyed making love to Rene.

A cloud of stale sweat, cigarette smoke, perfume and strong musk (despite the fact that it was mixed with the strong scent of Mitchell's cum) filled the doctor's nostrils as she took the servile Rene in her arms. Rene looked a little frightened as she let herself be held in this woman's arms but the sense altering control of the drugs had taken over Rene's body. Rene was relaxed and receptive to the soft caresses, soft and probing kisses, licks, nibbles and just the warm caress of the doctor's dry skin pressed along the side of her body. When the doctor took one of Rene's nipples between her teeth and lightly pulled back Rene's body shuddered with an orgasm - the first of several - as she whimpered at the pleasure flowing through her.

Rene, not having the same desire or appreciation for a woman's body or scent, especially when she was more or less forced into the situation, was not a good giver when it was her turn to pleasure the doctor. But, the doctor thought as Rene clumsily licked at her cunt and fingered her clit with a heavy hand, Rene would learn. Most of the women she imagined loaning Rene to in L.A. would be more interested in what they could do to the young woman and not what she could do to or for them.

Rene, the doctor thought, would be just fine.

The doctor had gotten two orgasms from Rene, with a little help from her own fingers, and she felt quite satiated. She rolled from underneath Rene and went to the bathroom.

When the doctor came back to bed, Rene had pulled the sheet up around her chin. Her eyes were wide but glazed, her nose was running and the doctor could see her shivering underneath the sheet. The doctor sat on the side of the bed and stroked Rene's tangled, dirty, sweat dampened hair. "Poor dear, you look a bit strung out. Are you going to be okay?"

Rene closed her eyes and swallowed and then in a weak, little girlish voice asked, "Did I please you, Dr. Woods? Are you angry with me?"

"Rene, I'm not angry with you," the doctor's voice was gentle, meant to soothe. "And, you did, umm, okay for a beginner but you'll get better. Don't worry about it."

The doctor stood up and reached down to the floor to collect her panties and bra. Rene was staring at her as she dressed and it appeared her shivering increased. As the doctor fastened her bra she held out her hand to Rene, "Rene, come to me, baby."

Rene didn't hesitate to respond to the command; she threw off the sheet and rapidly went to stand in front of the doctor. The doctor took Rene's hand and led her to the bathroom. "I want you to go empty your bladder and brush your teeth. Then bring me a glass of water and a warm, damp washcloth."

"Okay."

Rene went in the bathroom and closed the door. She sat on the toilet and started to pee; it seemed like she'd never stop. She wiped, brushed her teeth and rinsed her mouth perfunctorily, her mind numb. She filled a tumbler of water from the bathroom faucet and she got a washcloth and ran it under the hot water then went back to the doctor. Rene handed the glass of water and washcloth to the doctor, who had been leaning casually against the wall.

The doctor handed the water back to Rene. "Hold out your palm." Rene did as commanded and the doctor dropped two blue tablets into Rene's palm, 20 mgs of Valium. Rene recognized the pills and popped them in her mouth without being told and drank the glass of water. The doctor took the tumbler from Rene, sat it on the floor, and took Rene by the shoulders. For a brief instant Rene panicked thinking that more sex with the doctor was going to be demanded. Instead the doctor gently turned Rene so that her back was against the wall and then gently began rubbing Rene's face with the washcloth. Rene stood passively.

"Raise your arms for me Rene." Rene raised her arms and put her hands on top of her head. The doctor smiled as she ran the washcloth over Rene's armpits. Then the doctor squatted. "Spread a little bit for me baby." Rene complied. She closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath as she felt the washcloth rub her thighs and ran the washcloth quickly between Rene's labia; it felt absolutely wonderful and Rene didn't even consider who was doing it. Finally the doctor stood, dropped the washcloth and began fluffing Rene's tangled, matted hair.

"Do you know what I gave you to take, Rene?"

"Yeah. Valium."

"You've had a little too much speed over the last 18 hours; that's why you're feeling so bad."

"I know," Rene said in a quiet, flat voice.

"So, you're going to sleep for while; relax your mind and your body. I want you to call me when you wake up just to let me know you're okay. If you don't call, I'll come back over to check on you. Okay?"

"Sure Dr. Woods."

"What's with this Dr. Woods business all of a sudden?"

Rene lowered her head and looked at her feet, watching her toes curl and uncurl in the pile of the carpet, "I...I don't know. It just feels like...I, uh, you're angry with me. I've disappointed you; I'm not what you thought and maybe I need to act more, umm, respectful."

The doctor took Rene by the chin and brought her face up. "Listen Rene, Mitchell was absolutely ecstatic about last night and I couldn't be happier. I'm not angry with you. I don't give drugs and orgasms to young, beautiful cunts like you who disappoint me. I don't clean them up and tell them to rest. I don't care about them enough to check on them. I do what I've done for you because you've done well. Now, let's get you tucked into bed."

Rene crawled in bed. "Do you want a top to sleep in dear?" Rene shook her head then turned over and lay on her side, facing the doctor. The doctor covered her with the sheet and a light blanket lying in a chair. She tucked Rene in. Rene watched the doctor as she finished dressing.

Once the doctor finished dressing she sat in a chair near the nightstand and reached into her purse. She pulled out her checkbook, quickly wrote out a check, tore it out of the book and laid it on the nightstand. Rene stared at the check; it was lying on top of a thin pile of folded cash. Rene kept her eyes locked on the check and the cash as the doctor bent down and tenderly kissed Rene on the cheek. "Sleep tight, baby."

"I love you mommy," Rene mumbled, the Valium and her amphetamine induced exhaustion were overtaking her. The doctor smiled down at her, pleased that she had brought Rene along; she'd be useful in L.A.

Before she left, the doctor fished a paper bag from her purse and set it on the nightstand next to the check. "A little goodie bag for when you wake up." Then she turned and left. When Rene heard the front door close she reached out from her sheet and blanket cocoon and picked up the check and pile of bills.

The check was for $1000 with a notation: "A little extra for the great job and a great lay." There were also five, crisp $100 bills - and a note. "Here's a little something for a fantastic night. Look forward to seeing you in L.A. There are things we need to do :) - Mitchell"

$1500 dollars; Rene's mind was stunned. She was a whore. Mitchell and the doctor had both paid to have sex with her but then her eyes started to close. The pieces of paper fell silently to the carpet; Rene was asleep, her arm still outstretched.

~~~~~~~~~~

Rene awoke slowly sometime the next morning. She groaned as she swung her legs over the side of the bed and pulled the covers around her shoulders. My God, she thought, was I having a nightmare or what? But then she noticed the pieces of paper on the floor; the 100 dollar bills and the check on the floor came into focus. She stared at them as she reached for her cigarettes and lighter. As her hand grasped her pack of Reds it brushed the paper bag on the nightstand.

The lighter flared to life, a deep drag, a slowly exhaled cloud of smoke and then Rene shrugged the covers off her shoulders and reached for the bag. She opened the bag and gasped; she poured the contents on the bed next to her.

Her finger flicked the contents, slowly separating them. There was a rubber tourniquet, a couple of syringes with Demerol, a couple of morphine, a bottle of Dexedrine, a bottle of Seconal and four suppositories. She picked one up and squinted to read the labeling: hydromorphone - Dilaudid. Supposedly heroin addicts couldn't tell the difference between IV heroin and hydromorphone in either suppositories or via a needle. She held the small foil wrapped suppository and stared at it as she finished her cigarette. Then she placed it gently on the bed, as if it were fragile, reached for the bottle of dexies and headed for the bathroom.

That Saturday evening she took her first taste of the Dilaudid - shoving the bullet shaped suppository as deep as she could push it into her cunt instead of her ass and then laying back in her bed with her vibrator. The orgasm was intense and due to her wetness the rush from the suppository was slow and just as intense. She spent the rest of the night nodding, tranquilly floating between wakefulness and a light sleep. There was no emotional pain; her mind was unfocused and cocooned.

It was wonderful, she thought. No pain.

~~~~~~~~~~

In the two weeks leading up to L.A., Doctor Woods kept close to Rene, as much to make sure she could function in her job as significantly drug impaired as she was as to make sure Rene was not having second thoughts about the weekend with her and Mitchell - or the coming trip and other women. The doctor also made sure there were a steady stream of men - doctors and the few male nurses on staff - near her, clearly available for sex; keeping her stimulated, her libido in overdrive.

Rene flirted admirably but only took advantage of the men twice; sucking off a doctor in a darkened procedure lab and getting high with a male nurse anesthetist who all but violently raped her in the alley behind Rene's townhouse. It was all consensual and Rene, at least while she was stoned, reveled in the taste of the doctor's cum and the slippery feel of the male nurse's cum as it ran down her thighs.

In a final trial before L.A., the doctor sent a woman, the doctor's pharmaceutical rep and a lipstick lesbian Domme to Rene's office after everyone else had left the lab. Rene played the coy, reluctant innocent girl, nervously shooting herself up with Demerol as the woman gave her directions: how to take off her clothes, how to stand as the woman "inspected" Rene's body, working Rene's clit hard while another finger worked vigorously in Rene's ass.

Like a well trained dog, Rene went down on the woman on command. The woman threw three hundred dollar bills on the naked and sweating Rene, lying on the floor naked and panting after Rene brought the woman off. When Rene had regained some of her breath she reached down and fingered herself to an orgasm.

Rene slowly roused herself, collected the money, dressed and went home, her mind numb but her body resonating with intense pleasure at the encounter. She still did not enjoy sex with women but under the influence of the drugs she obeyed and her body responded. When she got home she went straight to her bedroom, stripped, lay on the bed, rolled her hips and legs up toward her chest and inserted a Dilaudid suppository into her ass.

Her numbness and the rapidly developing emotional pain melted away as her body laid limply in her bed and she nodded.

~~~~~~~~~~

L.A., from what she could remember, was pleasant. She had more sex in three nights than probably all of her college days. The doctor paid her well - and so did several of the men and women who used her body.

But back home, things rapidly degenerated. Rene was fired from the hospital several weeks after L.A.

Management didn't have to worry about too much in the way of cause, Rene was high on Demerol and Ecstasy when she was called into the Vice President's office; Rene could have cared less.

For the next few weeks Rene kept the mental pain of what she dimly realized as her professional disgrace with Dilaudid and other drugs still generously supplied by Dr. Woods. She had enough money in savings to live off of for a couple of months. But as the savings began to dwindle, Rene started to worry, especially as she noticed increasingly frequent bouts of vomiting and her belly start to swell. She was pregnant and as she had not used any condoms and had been fucked by numerous men since before L.A., all bareback, she had no idea who the father was. Rene went to Dr. Woods for help.

The "good" doctor had a "friend of a friend of a friend" in L.A. who was looking for art and fashion models. Pregnant women got top dollar because "there were so few pregnant models." This wasn't exactly the kind of help she had hoped for but under the circumstances...

The story was that Rene would be perfect to represent the fresh faced, girl next door from the Midwest who was a successful professional woman, now pregnant. She'd be on the cover of one of those working women's magazines. The payoff: $15,000.

When Rene arrived in L.A. she was picked up at the airport and checked into nice hotel on Sunset. She was picked up at the hotel in a limo the next day and taken to an apartment building in the Korean section off Wilshire Boulevard. Everything was going great through Rene's drug hazed eyes and mind.

Rene, buzzed on speed, did a "standard photo shoot." After the first roll of film was shot the photographer and her "representative" stopped the shoot and talked to Rene. The photographer and representative were "nervous," they didn't want to impose or offend Rene but - in consideration of more money and a supply of heroin for 6 weeks Rene would pose nude for a different client whom had more raunchy "taste." Rene didn't hesitate to take the deal.

After a little taste of the H, to take the edge of the speed and relax her for her nude shoot, another 40 or so pictures where shot, highlighting her swollen belly, large brown areolas and nipples, and swollen breasts.

"Okay, now, sweetheart, lean back on your arms and jut those beautiful breasts and that belly out and spread your legs nice and wide so we can see that nice swollen pussy of yours," the photographer coaxed.

Rene paused in rearranging her pose. "I thought you said this was for a tasteful magazine. I didn't think they did beaver shots in tasteful magazines."

The photographer waved her hand nonchalantly and just as nonchalantly said, "Oh, Rene, you know how men are and how standards change. Really spread shots are okay, just not real close ups or shots where you're fingering yourself."

"Well, okay." Rene spread.

The crew took lunch. They made Rene feel right at home, especially after dropping Ecstasy and a roofie in her drink. When they came back to the studio there was half a dozen black men waiting; all of them were nude, sporting large erections and no condoms.

The stills and video of Rene with the black men appeared that though heavily stoned, Rene was participating eagerly.

Sweating, exhausted, her face, neck, breasts and belly covered with the men's cum she nodded off on the bed. That's when the German shepherd was brought in.

Rene woke up the next day, disoriented and in a dingy motel room; not in the luxurious suite she had been installed in on her arrival to L.A. She had a terrible taste in her mouth, every muscle in her body felt like it ached and her jaw, cunt and ass all hurt. She had just finished throwing up, kneeling in front of the dirty toilet bowl when there was a knock on the door. It was the photographer's assistant.

The assistant presented the naked and disoriented Rene with a check for $4,000 and a balloon of heroin.

"Wait. I thought I was supposed to get $16,000," Rene said, completely oblivious to her nudity and general appearance. Her speech was slurred.

The assistant, who'd done this many times before, said blithely, "Oh, this is just the first payment. The rest will come in another day or two. Since we changed the contract amount we had to make some accounting changes." And then the assistant was gone.

Actually, Dr. Woods collected a $6,000 "talent fee" for arranging for the fresh meat. There was never going to be any more money and if Rene pressed the matter she would be shown a spread sheet were the "$16,000" was divided between transportation, studio, and other expenses.

A day or two later when Rene was alert enough to figure out something was wrong; she had to go to a pay phone on Sunset. She called the number on the photographer's contract. It was "no longer in service." Panicked, she called Dr. Woods. Dr. Woods' business manager curtly told Rene not to call or attempt contact with the doctor ever again or a restraining order would be sought and she may be arrested for stalking.

Rene, in her moment of partial alertness, was devastated. The $4,000 Rene had in hand went quickly between searching for drugs and living in the flop house motel on Sunset.

She started turning tricks along Sunset.

Rene, at this point, did not have a long life expectancy. Her fresh, girl next door face was pock marked by acne. Her fit body was skin and bones except for her swollen belly. Of her belly and her vomiting she was only vaguely aware, in between fixes, that she was pregnant. The veins in her arms were ruined from shooting up. Very likely she had gonorrhea or syphilis or both and odds were excellent she was, or soon would be, HIV positive.

Too tired to go out on the streets to score, she lay in her dirty bed, a torn tee-shirt barely covering her; she was starting to shake from need.

"Hey Rene, you stupid bitch!"

Rene sat up partially and agitatedly looked around the shabby motel room. "Who's there? Get the FUCK out of my room!"

The voice laughed; a cruel laugh. "So how does it feel?"

"Rob-Robby? Is that you?"

"Yeah big sister, it's me, your dearly departed brother. How does it feel to almost be dead, your looks shot, feeling desperate in this hell hole?"

Rene pushed her dirty hair from her eyes and squinted at a figure standing near her. She gasped, her eyes going wide in horror as she saw her dead brother standing beside her bed. She pulled the sheet up around her chin and her shaking increased.

"Not so pleasant, eh?" Robby taunted.

Rene's voice broke and her eyes filled with tears, "Robby, I took care of you. I took god damned good care of you. I was holding your hand and wiping your face with a cool washcloth. It wasn't like this."

He smirked. "Well, may as well have been. I was so afraid and I was in so much pain."

"But...but, I did what I could for you; all I could do. Robby, why are you being this way?"

The apparition snorted in contempt. "You judged me for being such a promiscuous fag, for being a junkie and getting AIDS. You judged me and yet, in the last couple of months how many cocks have been up your ass and cunt? How many in your mouth, your cheeks hollow as you sucked like some fucking human vacuum cleaner? Hmmm?